Something to talk about
by whynoy
Summary: A little bit of Chloe introspection... with a twist.


**Spoilers: **None, really.

**Summary: **A little bit of Chloe introspection… with a twist.

**Disclaimer: **Smallville and its characters are copyright ©2002 Warner Bros. & DC Comics.

**A/N: **Huge thanks to Sus, always. Dedicated to my dear Monica, because we both know that without her help I would've flunked out ages ago ;)

**- Something to talk about -**

Mr. & Mrs. Kent… Mr. & Mrs. Clark Kent… Mrs. Clark Kent…

Mrs. Clark Kent…

Mrs. Clark Kent…

Mrs. Clark Kent…

'Boy, does that sound good.' Just as the thought crossed her mind she immediately stopped writing those three words for the hundredth time and snapped a guilty look around her, afraid she had said that out loud. Luckily, she seemed to be the only student in Mr. Montgomery's class whose mind wasn't on next week's test on linear equations. Chloe let out the breath she had been holding, relieved.

The last thing she needed was one of those dreaded jockstraps catching a glimpse of her binder. Pages and pages filled with those three words wouldn't exactly contribute to her well-earned reputation as the tough feminist everyone held her for. Endlessly scribbling Mrs. insert crush or boyfriend's name here was the kind of behavior she would ridicule to death in the brainless cheerleaders she claimed to despise so much. Then again, daydreaming about an unrequited unattainable unconditional love during math class wasn't the standard behavior you would expect from the jaded editor of the Torch, either.

But that was the thing about Clark. He had the ability to turn her into everything un-Chloe-like without even noticing. She wasn't sure if this power was particular to him or if it came with the madly in love package. Either way, the effects of the infamous Kent charm were devastating. First came the giggling, then the constant daydreaming and now what she had dubbed the Binder of Shame. She made a mental note to go straight to the Torch's shedder after class. Wait. Bad idea. What if someone saw the pieces and managed to read something?

'God, look at me!', she thought. 'Am I working for the CIA now?'

This was making her paranoid. And angry. Why did she have to act as if she was hiding this huge shameful secret, while Clark could just…? Did it take him as much effort as it took her? Was it this draining for him too? Because it sure was for Chloe. She was exhausted. She was tired of pretending she didn't have feelings for Clark that went far beyond the line of friendship. She was tired of looking the other way and feigning she hadn't noticed whatever hint of the truth had leaked that day. She was tired of lying. She hated lying, especially to Clark. 'Figures…'. Chloe smiled bitterly

'You should've told me', Clark had said when he first saw her Wall of Weird. Rather paradoxical statement, if you ask me. Especially coming from a… what is he really? Anyway, someone who has been hiding an alien spaceship in his cellar, not to mention a couple of anything-but-normal abilities he had somehow managed to keep as a secret behind his perfectly average Kansas farm boy façade. Oh, you didn't know? Actually, Chloe had found out not that long ago, but when she finally did she realized the truth had been right in front of her eyes, so blatantly obvious she couldn't help but feeling stupid. 'Yet another irony in my oh-so-ironic life', Chloe thought. 'The intrepid reporter on her permanent quest for the truth about Smallville's weirdness had all the answers right under her nose. How's _that_ for an irony?'

But where were we? Oh yes, when little Chloe found out. That was about the time she had another revelation. She was in love with her best friend. Savage Garden-Style. You know, Truly-Madly-Deeply. All the trite adjectives you can think of. And then, add impossible to the list. Because, let's face it, the probability of Clark falling for her was about as high as the probability of…

"Miss Sullivan?"

"Wh… wh... what?"

"I was wondering if you could come back from dreamland for a second and share your results with the class."

Chloe stared blankly at the blackboard.

"35." A whisper came from behind her. "X is 35."

"35?" Chloe said hesitantly.

"That's correct, Miss Sullivan", the teacher threw her a dirty look. Daydreaming in class was one thing. Stealing from him the pleasure of publicly humiliating a student… _that_ he wasn't about to forgive.

"Thanks", she whispered back to the guy sitting behind her. What was his name again? Stuart… no, _Steven_. Steven something. He was in the basketball team, she vaguely remembered writing an article about that. Chloe smiled at him and Steven smiled back sheepishly.

'Why can't I fall for a perfectly nice guy like this one?' she thought. 'Not a jockstrap, not a total loser… he's somewhere in the middle, just like me.' That was a lie, actually. She stood anywhere but in the middle of the popularity-meter. 'Face it, Chloe: you're the ultimate outcast. However, Stuart - no, wait, _Steven _- Steven doesn't seem to mind…'

She turned around slowly in her chair and found him still staring at her. Embarrassed, he quickly looked away. And he obviously liked her. What was the problem then? Chloe couldn't help but sigh. Do you even have to ask? There really had to be some dark masochist tendency in her, because being in love with Clark was every bit self-destructing. It was hard, exhausting and painful. 'And above all, a waste of time' she mentally concluded.

The hardest time to be in love with Clark though was by far when she saw him suffer, have this continuous inner struggle… 'He must live in a world of confusion. If only I could help him…'

But she couldn't. 'I am sure as hell Clark would totally panic if he knew I know. He'd start obsessing about the repercussions and go all paranoid on me.'

So she just sat there, watching him torture himself. Dying to reach out to him and tell him everything. 'That I know, that I don't care, that I don't love him any less. In fact, I think I love him even more, because now I really understand how especial he is.' And she would also love to tell him how proud she was of him, because despite all the unbearable difficulties in his life, he still managed to be this incredible person.

But she couldn't. So she just sat there and played her role. Sarcastic Chloe. Reliable Chloe. Over caffeinated reporter-wannabe Chloe.

And she couldn't help but wonder… if they would ever get to be who they really were around each other. If there would ever be a day when they could sit together as their real selves. Shy insecure vulnerable Chloe and the love of her life, lost tormented… _alien _Clark.

And she wondered… what they would talk about.


End file.
